


Meeting the Winchesters

by EideticPrettyBoySpence



Series: Meeting Dean Winchester [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EideticPrettyBoySpence/pseuds/EideticPrettyBoySpence
Summary: I'm thinking about going back to school, specifically law school. So I figured why not write a story where I'm going to school with Sam and that's how I meet Dean. Or rather, how we reunite for the first time since high school. (Alternatively, a story explaining the impact Dean has had on me for a decade and a half, since he sauntered onto my tv screen and said "Dad's on a hunting trip, he hasn't been home in a few days.")
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Meeting Dean Winchester [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664119





	Meeting the Winchesters

My name is Nyssa Johnson. I'm a student at Stanford University, studying pre-law. My best friend is Sam Winchester. It's Halloween 2005, and Sam's girlfriend Jess and I are trying to convince him to come to a party with us. He studies too hard, hardly ever has fun unless he's going on a date with Jess. I'm pacing his dorm room, excited and giddy; Halloween is my favorite holiday. 

"Sam, get a move on, would ya? We were supposed to be there like fifteen minutes ago. Sam, you coming or what?" Jess calls.

"Do I have to?" Sam asks.

"Yes," Jess and I say. "It'll be fun. And where's your costume?" she continues.

"You know how I feel about Halloween."

"Don't be a killjoy, Samsquatch," I use the nickname he hates. "You're coming."

Somehow we manage to talk Sam into coming with us, but he draws the line at wearing a costume. Jess was dressed as a sexy nurse, I was a ghost bride. When we get to the bar we meet up with some of our other friends and order a round of shots.

"So here's to Sam and his amazing LSAT victory," Jess says, picking up a shot glass.

"All right, all right. It's not that big a deal."

"Um, yeah, it is," I say.

"He acts all humble, but he scored a 174."

"Is that good?" one of our friends asks.

"Scary good," Jess and I say.

"See, there you go," the man says to Sam. "You are a first-round draft pick. You can go to any law school you want."

"Actually, I got an interview here on Monday. If it goes okay, I think I got a shot at a full ride next year."

"What?! Sam, that's huge! Why is this the first I'm hearing about it? I'm supposed to be your best friend, jerk."

"Hey, it's gonna go great," Jess says.

"It better," he answers.

"How does it feel to be the golden boy in your family?"

"Ah, they don't know."

"Oh, no, I would be gloating. Why not?"

"Cause we're not exactly the Bradys," Sam says. He doesn't like talking about his family.

"I'm not exactly the Huxtables. More shots?"

"Yes, definitely," I say.

"No," Jess and Sam say.

"Seriously, I'm proud of you, and you're gonna knock them dead on Monday. You're gonna get that full ride. I know it."

"What would I do without you?" Sam asks.

"Crash and burn."

Later that night after we get home, I'm woken up by a crash in the living room. I share a house with Sam and Jess so we can split the cost of rent. None of us are exactly rich, but we didn't want to live in a dorm. So this was a great solution. I pull on a robe and slip my feet into my slippers, wandering toward the noise to figure out what it was. I almost run right into Sam, and I laugh nervously. We hear the creak of a floorboard, and I hide behind Sam when I see a shadow in the doorway of another room. A human shadow, too tall to be Jess, but it wasn't Sam, either. As we walk slowly toward the figure, it attacks Sam, and they fight for a while.

"Woah, easy tiger," I hear a familiar voice.

"Dean? You scared the crap out of me," my best friend answers.

"That's 'cause you're out of practice," Sam's brother says before Sam flips him. "Or not. Get off me."

"Dean, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I was looking for a beer," Dean says.

"Sam?" Jess clicked the light on. 

"Jess, hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica," Sam introduces them. "And you probably don't remember Nyssa, since I was the only one who stayed around through senior year. Nyssa, you remember Dean."

"Wait, your brother Dean?" Jessica asks.

"I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league."

"Let me put something on."

"No, no. No, I wouldn't dream of it, seriously," Dean says, flashing the smile I haven't seen in a decade. "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business, but nice meeting you. It was good to see you again, Nyssa."

"No. No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of them," Sam says, walking over to Jess. 

"Okay," Dean sighs softly "Um, dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a 'Miller Time' shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

"Dad's on a hunting trip, he hasn't been home in a few days."

"Jess, Nyssa, excuse us," Sam says.

After hugging Sam and shooting a shy glance at Dean, I go into my room and try to fall back asleep, but I can't help and hear the brothers' conversation. I don't mean to eavesdrop, but I just can't sleep.

"Come on, you can't just break in in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam says.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst or the Devil's Gate's in Clifton?" Sam argues with his older brother. "He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."

"Not for this long. Now, are you gonna come with me or not?"

"I'm not."

"Why not?"

"I swore I was done hunting for good."

"Come on, it wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad."

"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a 45."

"What was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old. He was supposed to say 'don't be afraid of the dark'."

"'Don't be afraid of the dark'? Are you kidding me? You should be afraid. You know what's out there."

"Still- the way we grew up after mom was killed and dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her, but we still haven't found the same thing. So we kill everything we can find."

"Save a lot of people doing it, too," Dean says.

I hear their voices fading, and I sneak out of bed to follow them. I don't know what they're talking about, but I don't want to miss a single thing they say. I don't understand, but I know it's important, and I know I'm going to lose Sam if I don't.

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" I hear Sam's voice heading for the door. "The weapon training and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."

"So, what are you gonna do? Are you just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?"

"No, not normal. Safe," I hide in the doorway to listen.

"And that's why you ran away."

"I was just going to college. It was dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Dad's in real trouble right now if he's not dead already. I can feel it. I can't do this alone."

"Yes, you can."

"Yeah. Well, I don't want to."

"What was he hunting?"

I follow behind the brothers as they go over to Dean's car, a gorgeous '67 Chevy Impala. He opens the trunk, then a secret compartment filled with all sorts of weapons and ammo, some I've never seen before.

"All right, let's see. Now, where the hell did I put that thing?" Dean says to himself.

"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?"

"I was working my own gig. This voodoo thing down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"

"I'm 26, dude. All right, here we go," Dean shuffles through some papers. "So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy- they found his car, but he'd vanished. Completely MIA."

"So maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah, well, here's another one in April, another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92- ten of them over the past twenty years- all men, all same five-mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough, and then I get this voicemail yesterday," he presses a button on his phone, and I hear a distorted, vaguely familiar voice.

"Dean, something is starting to happen. I think it's serious," the voice, which must be John's, becomes more distorted. "I need to try to figure out what's going on. Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger."

"You know there's EVP on that," Sam and I say at the same time.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it?"

"Nyssa, what are you doing out here? I told you I'd be right back," Sam says, ignoring his brother.

"Yeah, I know. I'm curious, sue me."

"I slowed the message down and ran it through a GoldWave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got," Dean grabs a tape recorder and presses play; this time the EVP is almost crystal clear.

"I can never go home," a female voice says softly.

"Never go home," Sam and I say, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

"You know, in almost two years, I haven't bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean tells his brother.

"All right, I'll go. I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday," Sam says. "Just wait here. Nyssa, come on, you're not going with us. That's not happening."

"There's no way in hell I'm letting you go alone, Sam. You're my best friend, I can't lose you."

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asks.

"I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview," Sam replies. "And it's my whole future on a plate. So we got a deal, or what?"

Dean finally agrees after the brothers argue for a while, and I go back inside with Sam to say goodbye to Jess. We argue the whole way up to the apartment, and I finally convince him to let me come along. I pack a bag and meet Sam in his room in case he decides to try and back out of our deal and leave without me.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Jess asks. "Is this about your dad? Is he all right?"

"Yeah, you know, just a little family drama," Sam replies.

"But your brother said he was on some kind of hunting trip," the blonde sits on the bed next to me.

"Ah, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin, and he's probably got Jim, Jack, and Jose along with him. We're just gonna go bring him back," Sam throws some clothes in a bag along with his weapons.

"What about the interview?"

"I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple of days."

"Sam, I mean, please. Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?"

"Hey, everything's gonna be okay. I promise," Sam kisses his girlfriend on the cheek.

"At least tell me where you're going," Jess calls after us.

Sam doesn't answer, he just keeps walking out of the apartment. I have to run to keep up with him since he's roughly two feet taller than I am; his legs are almost as tall as my whole body. When we get to the Impala, Dean raises an eyebrow at me. Instead of replying, I push the passenger seat forward and climb in the backseat, setting my bag next to me on the seat. Dean sighs in irritation and climbs behind the wheel, driving through the night until we stop at a gas station the next morning. Then he fills up the Impala and goes inside to grab food, coming back a few minutes later.

"Hey. You guys want breakfast?"

"Nah, I'm good," I reply.

"No thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam asks. "You and Dad still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?"

"Uh... Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right," Sam says, digging through a box of cassettes. "I swear, man, you gotta update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two- Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

"Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. It's Sam, okay?"

"Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud."

That was the exact moment I started to fall for Dean Winchester. True, cassettes are old fashioned as hell. But classic rock is the greatest genre ever invented. He's gorgeous, with the most piercing green eyes I've ever seen. He's sarcastic and hilarious. And completely out of my league. So I made a vow that he would never know, I may not even tell Sam.

As Dean drives toward our destination, he occasionally taps the steering wheel in time to the music. Sam makes calls to hospitals and morgues in the city where their father was last seen, as well as the surrounding area. After a few minutes, he hangs up the phone and turns toward Dean.

"All right, so there's no one matching dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something, I guess."

"Check it out," Dean says. 

There are a couple of police cars up ahead. The blonde pulls his car over and parks, taking the key out of the ignition. Then he reaches over to open his glove compartment, pulling out a wooden box with fake badges inside. I frown, knowing I won't get to know what's going on right away because I know he doesn't have a fake badge for me. So I'll just wait in the car and hope they fill me in later.

"Let's go," he tells Sam before exiting the car. My best friend sighs.

I climb out of the Impala to stretch my legs and eavesdrop, and I can just barely hear the brothers talking to the real cops.

"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints- spotless. It's almost too clean," says one cop.

"So this kid Troy- he's dating your daughter, isn't he? How's she doing?" asks the other.

"She's been putting up missing posters downtown."

"You fellas had another one like this last month, didn't you?" Dean asks.

"And who are you?" asks the African American cop.

"Federal marshals," the blonde flashes a fake badge.

"You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?"

"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right, about a mile up the road. There were others before that."

"So this victim," Sam cuts in. "You knew him?"

"A town like this, everybody knows everybody."

"Any connection between the victims?" Dean asks. "Besides that, they're all men?"

"No, not as far as I can tell."

"So what's the theory?" Sam asks.

"Honestly, we don't know- serial murder, kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys."

After a moment the brothers start back toward the Impala, and Dean slaps Sam upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Why'd you have to step on my foot? Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. If we're gonna find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

I see a sheriff walk up behind Dean, who clears his throat. "Can I help you, boys?"

"No, Sir, we were just leaving," Dean replies.

We climb back into the car, driving to the main street and climbing out. We walk along the sidewalk and see a woman hanging up fliers. I notice that the fliers have the latest missing man on them. We walk toward the woman, and Dean speaks up..

"I bet you that's her. You must be Amy," Dean speaks to the brunette woman.

"Yeah," she says, not paying attention.

"Troy told us about you. We're his uncles and cousin. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and our daughter Nyssa."

"He never mentioned you to me."

"Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much. We're up in Modesto."

"So we're looking for him, too, and we're kind of asking around," Sam interrupts his brother. 

"Hey, are you okay?" another girl asks Troy's girlfriend.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions?" Dean asks.

The girls nod, and we all head into a diner, sitting in a booth. Amy speaks up quietly after a moment. "I was on the phone with Troy. He said he would call me right back, and he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam asks gently.

"No, nothing I can remember."

"Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared- something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." the girls look at each other, and Dean pauses for a moment. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just-" Amy's friend says slowly. "I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" the brothers asked in unison.

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial like decades ago. Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up- well, they disappear forever."

We thank the girls and head out of the diner after asking them where the library is. We ask the librarian for a computer, and Sam and I sit behind Dean as he pulls up the Internet. When he goes to the local paper's website, he types in 'female murder hitchhiking'. We get no results, so he tries 'female murder Centennial Highway.' Still nothing. Sam tries to take the keyboard, and Dean slaps his arm. They argue for a while until Dean finally gives up and slides over a seat.

"Dude. You're such a control freak."

"So, spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam ignores his brother.

"Yeah."

"Maybe it's not murder," he says, searching 'female suicide Centennial Highway'. After a moment we get a single hit. "This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps of Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."

"Does it say why she did it?"

"Yeah. An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die," Sam says softly. 'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband, Joseph Welch."

"That bridge look familiar to you?"

Sam logs off the computer after clearing the search history, and drive back out to the bridge from earlier. When Dean parks, we all climb out and walk onto the bridge. Sam and Dean look over the edge, but I stay in the middle. I'm terrified of heights, and I can't swim, so I can't bear to look over the edge into the water beneath.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean says.

"So you think Dad would have been here?"

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him."

"Okay, so now what?"

"Now we keep digging til we find him. It might take a while."

"Dean, I told you I've got to get back by-"

"Monday. Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?" Dean says sarcastically.

"Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? Does she know about the things you've done?"

"No, and she's not ever going to know," Sam says harshly.

"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're gonna have to face up to who you really are."

"Who is that?"

"One of us," Dean turns and walks away.

"No, I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

"Well, you have a responsibility."

"To Dad and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom's gone, and she isn't coming back."

"Don't talk about her like that," 

Dean grabs Sammy by the coat and shoves him, and I turn toward the Impala quickly. I see a woman in a white nightgown standing on the rail of the bridge, and she turns to look at us all. Then she takes a step and plummets into the river; Dean and Sam look over the edge for the woman, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asks, then we hear the Impala's engine turn over. "What the-"

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asks.

Dean silently reaches into his pocket and pulls out his key. I knew I had seen him take it out of the ignition. We watch as the Impala speeds toward us, then I turn and run, with the brothers on my heels.

"Come on, Dean. Let's go!"

We end up having to leap over the rail into the river so we don't get hit. I flail in the water for a moment before Dean pulls me against him, keeping me afloat; cling to his neck, shivering in fear. I feel his heart beating as fast as I know my own must be. Dean slowly makes his way to the shore, letting me go once my feet can reach the bottom. I drop to my knees and lie on my side, facing Dean who is lying the same way. Sam had managed to grab onto the bridge, and he pulls himself back up, looking over the edge at us.

"Dean, Nyssa!"

"What?"

"Hey, are you all right?"

"I'm super," he takes my hand and helps me climb the bank.

"Car all right?" Sam asks as we reach him. Dean looks under the hood.

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!"

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the trail go from here, genius? You smell like a toilet."

We end up driving to the only motel in town, and Dean grabs one of his fake credit cards. When we get up to the counter, he tosses it down on the counter, and the old man behind the counter picks it up.

"One room please."

"You guys having a reunion or something?"

"That other guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month."

Dean, Sam and I walk to room ten, the room that John is staying in. Sam takes out his lockpicking kit and fiddles with the lock, which clicks open a couple of minutes later. Sam walks into the room and pulls Dean inside, and I walk in behind them. The walls are covered with articles, there's salt around the perimeter of the room, and old food everywhere. Dean picks up a burger and sniffs it.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple of days, at least."

"Salt, cat's-eye shells. He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in. What you got here?"

"Centennial Highway victims. I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, age, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

"Dad figured it out," Sam says.

"What do you mean?"

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."

"All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness."

"No, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband."

"All right, why don't you see if you can find an address. I'm gonna get cleaned up."

"Hey, Dean, what I said earlier, about Mom and Dad- I'm sorry."

"No chick flick moments," Dean holds up a hand.

"All right, jerk."

"Bitch."

"Hey, guys. I'm starving," Dean says when he comes back in the room after showering and changing. "I'm gonna grab a little something to eat at that diner down the street. You want anything?"

"No."

"Aframian's buying."

But Dean never makes it to the diner; a moment after he leaves the room, Sam gets a call. The local cops had somehow figured out that their Federal Marshal badges were fake. Sam's brother called him to warn him that the cops were outside the motel. "What?" Sam answers, not even saying hello. "Dude, five-oh, take off." "What about you?" "Uh, they kind of spotted me. Go find Dad," then Dean hangs up abruptly. Internally I'm freaking out, but I try not to show it, as much as I want to cry. We don't hear from Dean for weeks, but Sam still looks up the husband's address and we head out there to talk to him. It's under the pretense of being reporters, which confuses the man because John had had the same idea. He had already talked to the man under the pretense of investigating what happened to his children and his wife the day they all died. When we pull up to the house, Sam knocks on his door. "Hi, uh, are you Joseph Welch?" The man steps out of his house and walks into his yard, Sam and me on his heels. Sam pulls out an older picture of his father, Dean, and him when the brothers were children. He shows it to Joseph Welch and asks if he recognizes John, which he does. "Yeah, he was older, but that's him. He came by three or four days ago, said he was a reporter." "That's right. We're working on a story together. Nyssa is our research partner." "Well, I don't know what the hell kind of story you're working on- the questions he asked me." "About your late wife, Constance," Sam confirms. "He asked me where she was buried." "And where is that, again?" "What, I got to go through these twice?" "It's fact-checking if you don't mind." "In a plot behind my old place over on Breckinridge." "Why did you move?" Sam asks. "I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died," the man says as if that should be obvious. "Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" "No way. Constance- she was the love of my life, prettiest woman I ever known." "So you had a happy marriage?" "Definitely," Joseph said after a long pause. "That should do it. Thanks for your time," Sam says, walking to the Impala and putting the key in the door. Before he opens the car door, he turns back. "Mr. Welch, you ever hear of a woman in white?" "A what?" "A woman in white or sometimes a weeping woman. It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon. They're ghosts. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places in Hawaii and Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women, you understand, but all share the same story." "Boy, I don't care much for nonsense." "You see, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children. Then, once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him, and that man is never seen again." "You think... you think that has something to do with Constance, you smartass?" "You tell us." "I mean, maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here, and you don't come back." Sam and I walk back to the Impala and climb in, driving away from the property toward the couple's old house. He calls in a fake 911 call to send the cops questioning Dean in the opposite direction. No more than ten minutes later, his phone rings, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief when I hear the older Winchester's voice on the other end of the call. "Fake 911 call, Sammy. That's pretty illegal." "You're welcome," Sam replies. "Listen, we got to talk." "Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. She's buried behind her old house. That should have been Dad's next stop. I just can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet." "Sam, would you shut up for a second? That's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho." "What? How do you know?" "I've got his journal." "He doesn't go anywhere without that thing." "Yeah, well, he did this time." "What's it say?" "Same old ex-Marine crap when he wants to let us know where he's going." "Coordinates. Where to?" "I'm not sure yet." "Dean, what the hell is going on?" I see Constance standing a few feet in front of the car, and I yell Sam's name; he slams on the brakes, and the car jolts to a stop. Then we hear her voice coming from the Impala's back seat. "Take me home. Take... me... home." "No." The locks on every door click, locking us in the car with Constance. Then she drives the car toward the house she used to share with her family when she was alive. It screeches to a halt in the front yard, less than thirty feet away from the house, and she shuts off the engine. "I can never go home," Constance says quietly. "You're scared to go home," Sam replies. A moment later my entire body goes numb as Constance appears in the front seat. She doesn't possess me, just sits and looks at Sam. Then she appears on top of him, straddling his lap with her hands on his chest. "Hold me. I'm so cold." "You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been." "You will be," she says, kissing him. Sam is reaching for the ignition when Constance disappears; a moment later he's screaming in pain. She seemed to be trying to do something to him, digging her fingers into his chest. I can't do anything but watch in horror until the window shatters as three bullets hit the woman, and she disappears. My heartbeat picks up as I see Dean standing in the yard holding a gun, and I have to stop myself from running into his arms. Constance disappears and reappears a moment later, and Dean fires three more times. Sam is finally able to sit up and turn the key, and the engine turns over. "I'm taking you home," Sam says. He pushes the gas pedal and speeds toward the abandoned house. I hear Dean yelling as I quickly make sure my seatbelt is fastened, not a moment too soon as the Impala breaks the fence and smashes through the wall of the house. I groan softly as pain shoots up my back and neck, then I hear Dean scrambling over the wreckage toward the car. "Sam! Nyssa!" "Here!" "Yeah." "You okay?" "I think." "I'm fine." "Can you move?" "Help me." Dean helps me out of the car and I can't help but hug him quickly. We watch Constance pick up a picture of her and her children. Watching her breaks my heart after realizing her husband cheated on her. I can't imagine how much it hurt to realize the person you trusted more than anyone else wasn't who you thought they were. She threw the picture down and heaved a dresser at us, pinning Dean and Sam between the Impala and the dresser. All of a sudden the lights started flickering, which was downright creepy knowing the electricity was disconnected. Water came trickling slowly down the stairs even though the water was disconnected from the house. We watched Constance walk to the stairs, looking up at something, then we heard the sound of two children's voices right before their ghosts appeared in the living room. They wrapped their mother in a hug, then Constance started screaming as they disappeared, leaving behind a puddle that disappears with the sound of a drain gurgling. Soon all that's left to show any of them had even been there is a damp spot on the floor. Dean and Sam grunt as they shove the dresser, knocking it to the floor so they can get free. "So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean says. "That's why she could never go home," Sam replies. "She was too scared to face them." "You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy," Dean claps his brother on the shoulder. "Ah. I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?" "Hey, saved your ass. I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car, I'll kill you." Fortunately, the only thing wrong with the Impala is a broken headlight. I climb in the back and Sam climbs in the passenger seat. Sam opens the glove compartment and pulls out a map. He opens the map on his lap and looks at it for a minute before he speaks. "Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackbottle Ridge, Colorado." "Sounds charming," Dean replies. "How far?" "About 600 miles." "If we shag ass we can make it by morning." "Dean, um..." "You're not going." "The interview's in ten hours, I got to be there." "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home." I can feel the tension in the air as Dean turns the car around, and neither of them speaks until Dean pulls up to the house and Sam climbs out of the car. I climb out of the car after my best friend, and he leans down to speak to Dean. "You'll call me if you find him? Maybe we can meet up with you later?" "Yeah, all right," he turns the car on, then calls after his brother. "Sam. You know, we made a hell of a team back there." "Yeah," Sam replies, and Dean drives off. I follow Sam up the stairs, and he unlocks his front door. Flicking on the light, he calls for his girlfriend. "Jess! You home?!" We wander through the dark apartment and then hear the shower running, and Sam sits down on the bed with a smirk. I roll my eyes and walk away, my bed, and the newest Stephen King novel calling my name. I'm only a few feet away from his door when I'm hit with a wave of hot air and I hear the crackling of fire a moment before Dean kicks in the front door. I run back to their bedroom and see Sam sitting on the bed, the room on fire all around him; Dean runs up behind me screaming his brother's name. I look up and see Jess on the ceiling, blood on her nightgown. My hand flies to my mouth in horror as I stand there frozen in shock. Dean wrestles Sam out of the room as he screams his girlfriend's name the whole time. When we make it outside, the fire department and police are here. We manage to make it away from them without being questioned. Sam walks silently to the Impala and opens the secret compartment in the trunk. I walk up behind him and silently wrap my arms around him as he picks up a rifle, checking to see if it's loaded. He cocks the gun and throws it back in the trunk, only saying one thing. "We got work to do."


End file.
